#napowrimo2021

[torrentialmonsoon]

why don't we give rainstorms their own names? the flowers bow in their presence each time storms dance.

- Photo Credit: Manoj Kinger, The Himalayan Blue Poppies

#poetry #photohraphy #manoj kinger #the himalayan blue poppies #flowers #storms #rain #mountains #himalayas #NaPoWriMo2021 #napowrimo #Day 12 #pic inspired #rain inspired #april showers #700

[prasannawrites]

you; a loud reason.

tell me why i feel more holy in your palms than praying to any of the gods?

tell me why i’ve never felt smaller when i rest my head on your shoulder?

it doesn’t take much, it’s always the little things that set me ablaze. why do my desires run rampant when i catch the morning light in your eyes – tell me why do i desire?

and if not your eyes –

it’s everything else, the way the wind plays with your hair, the way the sun tenderly kisses your skin.

it's you.

#napowrimo #napowrimo 2021 #napowrimo2021 #napowrimo21 day 29 #napowrimo day 29 #love #love poetry #love poems #poems #poetry #excerpts from my heart #excerpt from a book I'll never write #poeticstories #writerscreed #writtenconsiderations #twcpoetry #smitten by poetry #poetryportal #poetryclub13 #napowrimo 2021 again #my writing #prasannawrites

[livingthroughwords]

Isn't the sky selfish?

It's so big.

And we get to touch none of it.

We can only look

And long, long for it.

And sit still while all it does

Is look down upon us.

As if saying

I'm always going to be grander

And more beautiful

Than all you humans

And your petty longings.

#writerscreed #poeticstories #inkstay #napowrimo #poetic stories #writtenconsiderations #napowrimo2021 #napowrimo 2021 #poetry #13cupsofteareblog #writers #writersoftumblr #writersunderinfluence

[albertpops]

Ace Sex

I laugh:

Would you knock it off? 

I can’t tell if you’re being serious

with the way you’re comically

bumping your hips against me, 

while I put the dishes away. 

You say “oh babe”

like a nineteen-thirties radio host, 

every third thrust, and I have to catch myself

from hitting my nose on the cabinets

and it’s sweet and endearing how

you like to make me laugh. 

.

Oh, you actually want to?

Okay, I guess. Oh, I mean-- No, no, 

It’s not a problem, I mean-- 

I don’t mind, I mean-- 

I could, I mean-- 

I want to, too. 

.

No, it’s not that I’m not attracted to you, you know that.

I think we have different experiences with attraction.

Attraction is when I hold your kissable cheeks in my hands

and nuzzle my nose with yours. It’s when you’re working from home, 

and I stand behind you and braid your long dark hair

until you’re adorned with every twisty in the house. 

It’s when you bring me apple slices and a black coffee

while I do my graduate course work, then collapse next to me

on the couch, leaning, with as much contact as possible. 

It’s when I fall asleep in your lap, watching Love Island, 

you stroke my arm and think,

This girl has everything she needs.

.

I kiss you and my heart flutters 

I try not to smile, because it’s hard 

to kiss and smile at the same time. 

Our lips disconnect. 

.

You bite the cable of muscle in my neck, 

I’m not sure where to look, so I close my eyes, 

holding back a laugh. 

It feels like the “aaaa!” when the plot thickens, 

or the highest point on the rollercoaster, 

when you unwittingly look down. 

.

I ask if we can take it to bed. 

You ask, “Are you sure?” 

and “are you okay with that?” 

while eagerly vibrating. 

you’re like the kid on Christmas morning, 

banned to the top of the stairs until I disable the house alarm

and holler, “Looks like someone came!” 

I spread my hands in benediction and say, “my love,

I am consenting.” which is different than saying, “I want you.”

You slap my ass on the way to bed, 

and doesn’t see me roll my eyes. 

.

Writing about sex is almost exactly like

writing out a recipe for biscuits, 

and I’ve never really had an excuse to make biscuits.

I know other people love biscuits and love to make them 

but I don’t see what’s so super special about

one cup of flour and, however much salt, and, wait, 

baking powder, or soda? Well. We’ll see what happens. 

And sometimes spices, if you feel like it. 

Other people seem to feel like it. 

Because for me, it’s not about the biscuits, I don’t care

about the actual biscuits, I care

about the person I’m with-- you, only--

and if you’re happy, 

your smile, the indicator. The mess, collateral. 

I like the time spent. 

I like the little exchanges, the rare sides of us that interact. 

I like the joy of making something. 

.

Oh, you’re really into this. 

I guess my thoughts had wandered. 

You whisper something I don't hear, which is okay, 

because we have different experiences with attraction

and I’d rather think your thoughts, 

and build our narrative in a way that I can tweak and edit,

than hear something that would shatter that illusion, 

and strike any splinters of fear into me. 

I say “one cup of flour”

and you say “oh, babe.” 

I say “teaspoon of salt.” 

and you say “you’re so good to me.” 

I say “powder or soda?”

and you say “whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

.

I wonder why peanuts grow underground, like beets. 

But beets are just beets through and through, 

while peanuts have a shell, and the good part, inside. 

I wonder why cherries grow in twos, sometimes threes. 

and why their seeds contain cyanide, 

Apple seeds have arsenic, I think. Just a trace. 

I wonder why soap is labelled “orange blossom” 

instead of just “orange,” and why

it doesn’t taste like either when he puts his finger in my mouth. 

I guess “orange” is too Trader Joes

but “orange blossom” is more Trader Jacques

but I still don’t see why that matters. 

“Orange” reminds me of the soda, and summers at my Grandma’s house. 

Swimming with my siblings and cousins, and that hot black driveway. 

“Orange blossom” is a life I’ll never live in the south of France, 

but I don’t know a lot about the south of France, so maybe Spain, 

if oranges blossom in Spain. I should know more about Spain

Seeing as I was a Spanish minor in college but it was mostly 

Central and South American Spanish, and I don’t know

if oranges blossom there, either. 

Maybe I know enough about Spanish-speaking countries, 

I just don’t know enough about oranges. 

I’ll look it up after this. 

I wonder if I have an attention deficit. 

My brother has an attention deficit, 

but I don’t want to think about my brother right now. 

I wonder why, almost every time, I get a song stuck in my head. 

This time it’s “Funkytown,” and I try not to laugh. 

(boop-boop beep boop boop. beep boop-boop beep-boop). 

I wonder when was the last time I watched Shrek 2. 

The phrase “having shreks” flashes through my mind,

and I laugh, but pass it off as something else. 

.

You nod, and your eyebrows squeeze

tighter together. You say, 

“I want you to finish.” 

and I know it would make you happy, 

so I focus my thoughts inward, 

into my body instead of my mind

and put a timer on the biscuits. 

.

Your long dark hair flops around,

and I hold it out of your face because that’s a nice thing to do, 

I think, and I see all of you. 

Your big dark eyes, muted, and earnest. 

Your soft cheeks with their constellations of acne. 

The shades of his scruff, from amber to black. 

A tablespoon of sugar, 

but your heavy handed, 

and sharp chime: 

Ding. 

#napowrimo #napowrimo21 #napowrimo2021 #asexuality #sex cw #poetry #day 9 #albertpops #ace

[blackinkmess]

NaPoWriMo 2021 - Day 17

Hold on. Let go. Close your eyes and follow the beating of your heart. Dissolve. Release. Listen to your breath as it guides you. Surrender. Discover. Find me in this exquisite stillness.

#writer #writing #poet #poetry #poem #poeticstories #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #spilledink

[poetrie]

When it felt like I was your world,

perhaps, I was just like the earth

to the universe: a tiny speck of mass

in your memory, orbiting in this tiny

space you’ve made of me; night and

day, curious about how vast and vague

your mind could be; how many other

celestial bodies feed your complex

fantasies, while I look at you, thinking

that you are the only one sustaining me.

I could have said that you were my

universe. I wanted to explore the spaces

between your palms, the different

constellation of thoughts in your head,

the black holes that swallow you whole,

and the magnitude of gravity that held me

in place. But I found it hard to get a hold

of you as you outgrew my love and you

continued to expand to such vastness

no one can ever imagine. And that’s

how I learned that nothing was ever mine;

the universe cannot be mine,

as I am but a pygmy dweller

in your constantly changing reality.

– Your Universe, Samantha M.

#writerscreed #poetry #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #spilled ink #thoughts #have a great day #writing

[aghostwriter]

MANIFESTING IS FOR THE BIRDS

I wrote a letter. dated it one month from when pain put words to pad. manifested for 27 days and pretended not to feel sad. when those familiar melodies of melancholy drummed through the air, I change the channel. I promised myself, I wouldn't go there. smile and repeat-- you are enough! You are beautiful! replete with that certain something that makes lovers go "ah" that mysterious Je ne sais quoi. lovers fall victim to their intrigue, fulfill all of their desires and then leave. "She's just not..I don't know...the one." their absence echoes like love in a hollow hall. STOP! You are doing it again. You are not working in tandem with the universe. your words are acting against you. you've cast your own curse! Elevate your plane and remember, smile and repeat "I am enough I am beautiful." Just like we rehearsed.

(Honestly, I never had a lover walk me home. Bring me a bouquet Or gently whisper, "I love you, please stay."

So..mani*fucking*fest that! )

@nosebleedclub "Walk me home"

29/30

#quotes #poetry #love #poem #life #poems #words #writing #thoughts #art #positive thoughts #negative #napowrmo #napowrimo2021 #my poem #how can i explain myself #my last relationship #i give up

[locker72]

A late addition to my napowrimo 2021.

Prompt 1. Ego

#escapril #napowrimo #escapril 2021 #napowrimo2021 #trans #nonbinary #lgbt #poem #free poetry #apache helicopter

[tea--stained]

Unanswered questions

What do we do 

with the memories 

when love dies?

And what of the photos, 

the anniversaries, 

the gifts that were given?

Are they suddenly

rendered meaningless,

relics of a past

to be forgotten,

to never be talked about,

only cried over

while we mourn lost love,

and then buried

or tossed out with the trash?

What do we do

with the memories

when love dies?

- AzureOblivion

#azure-oblivion #poetry #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #day 13 #lost love #break up #spilled ink

[balkaransidhu]

X for Xiaoshi #NaPoWriMo2021

X for Xiaoshi #NaPoWriMo2021

Xiaoshi,(xiao – little/small, shi – poetry) is a genre of Chinese poetry which came into being in the 1920s from the so called “short poetry movement’. It is also known as the ‘Chinese Haiku‘. Xiaoshis are about presenting vivid yet unconnected images together. These metaphors or pictures just have to have a tiny bit of causality. This form is usually written as a quatrain. For more on this…

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#chinese #chinese haiku #chinese poetry #NaPoWriMo #napowrimo poetry #napowrimo2020 #napowrimo2021 #Poem #Poem of the day #poems #poemsporn #Poet #Poetry #Poetry Forms #Wordpress Poems #wordpress poetry #wordpress poets #wordpress writers #xiaoshi #xiaoshi Poem #xiaoshi poetry

[theglycoprotein]

It's NaPoWriMo time again. I'm posting all my poetry on my Instagram (same handle as here).

This is my offering for Day 3. I may post other highlights/favourites here but you should really check out the 'Gram.

#poetry #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #alt lit #twc #twcpoetry #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #day3

[torrentialmonsoon]

she smells of smoked honey woods and fireside marshmallows, of eucalyptus rain and morning petrichor, of lakeside mornings and hidden waterfalls, of emerald waters and turquoise lagoons. she smells of endless weekends and forever vacations. she smells like my perfect summer dream.

#poetry #summer and candles inpsired #NaPoWriMo2021 #napowrimo #Day 15 #half way done #ignoring the prompts #summer #vacation #weekend #camping #campfire #rain #waterfalls #ocean #300

[prasannawrites]

absence is a song i know too well.

i am not whole. i lived my life in fragments – i can neatly categorize my life before-you, and after-you. but that’s not the whole truth, i always find myself somewhere in the middle, a foot planted firmly on either side, i am a crisis crossing the karman line. you're right there in grasp, but i know it’s an optical illusion that i fell for far too many times. i still don’t have the words to neatly describe all of this. one day, far in the future, i will be at peace, feeding cold fruit to my niece, and the words will come flooding in. you will be out of reach, but this time i’ll shuffle my feet into the after-you fragment, and won’t look back.

maybe.

#poetry #poems #absence #poems about absence #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #napowrimo 2021 day 22 #napowrimo day 22 #poeticstories #inkstay #spilled ink #deadwatered #bitsofstarglow #smitten by poetry #writerscreed #writtenconsiderations #writingthestorm #twcpoetry #excerpts from my heart #excerpt from a book i'll never write #my writing #prasannawrites #napowrimo 2021

[livingthroughwords]

At 3 o'clock late

It started years ago. You talked my ear off. But you listened just the same. They're right when they say, You should take things slow.

It all went wrong, When you threw in my face, The words I had whispered. To no one but you, At 3 o'clock late.

I was to be blamed, But not for what you said. I told you too many truths, Master manipulator. Was plastered all over that pretty face.

Story of my life, Guess you didn't mean, To make me the villain, But boys like you I've seen.

Sorry doesn't make you weak, Love doesn't make you mean. If I had known, The consequences of that smirky face, I would've just gone to sleep, At 3 o'clock late.

#napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #writerscreed #poeticstories #inkstay #writtenconsiderations #poetry #writersunderinfluence #poem #poetrycommunity

[albertpops]

Heartstrings

Tied together with heartstrings, 

Taut, but not tightly bound. 

You plucked the strings until they snapped

You played me until I broke

.

I still don’t know if it was because you were

Scratching me off like a scab, 

Or if you liked the sound of what we had so much

We wore ourselves threadbare.

#day 14 #napowrimo #napowrimo21 #napowrimo2021 #poetry #poets on tumblr #albertpops #writeblr

[blackinkmess]

NaPoWriMo 2021 - Day 3

The trickle of rain the soft rolling thunder I awake ever so slightly on this gentle morning. My room still dark the bed still cradling me, in this moment everything is simple. I welcome the serenity. I bask in this stillness.

#writer #writing #poem #poet #poetry #poeticstories #writingthestorm #spilledink #napowrimo #napowrimo2021